The Invisible King
by xpsychodramaticx
Summary: In a cruel twist of fate, Spencer Reid is forced to profile his own childhood in order to save those he holds closest to his heart. Without much choice, he finds himself playing this UnSub in a mutation of chess across Quantico; except there's a twist. In this game, there is another, invisible player- one whose moves are never seen. For the lives of his team, can he possibly win?
1. Prologue

**_A/N: Before you guys get going with this fic: POSSIBLE VIOLENCE AND GORE, AND ALSO FOUL LANGUAGE! And I don't live in or have ever been to the USA so everything in here is based off what I could find on Google so please tell me if I use the wrong term or talk about something that doesn't exsist in America or something like that! Okay you may now continue, and you have been warned :) And can I just say I'm super thrilled to be back here and writing my second Criminal Minds fanfic. This might be a little longer than In Blood, possibly more in the realm of 15-20 chapters but not too long (I hope, I can't write sustained fanfics to be honest). Thanks to you who are here after In Blood! I look forward to reading your reveiws, and also I might get chapter one up as well tonight but I have no idea..._**

* * *

Spencer Reid may have been the biggest technophobe in Virginia, but there was still something so very comforting to him about sitting in Garcia's tech den and reading through stacks of printed out records. It was a slow and sluggish day, and far across the state line, churning across the sea, an Atlantic storm was bearing down upon the coastline of the southern United States. The air was thick as it waited for the electric tension to break, but in the heart of Garcia's office everything was silent and calm. Currently the team were in Washington as they investigated a series of hit-and-run bank robbings; with each attack resulting in the security guard shot and the only thing stolen... whatever cash the civilians inside had had on them at the time. On the morning of the case, Reid had been laid low with a splitting headache and a dreadful cough- and so it had been decided by Hotch that the younger agent would work from HQ with Garcia.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. Only that morning, Morgan had been in contact to tell Spencer that their UnSub had left a bomb threat- breaking clean away from MO and plunging the team into confusion. That confusion had only deepened when the Unsub had arrived, unmasked, breaking into the middle of the bank and firing a round of warning shots into the air. He had been arrested at the scene, and so the team hoped to back by afternoon- or at least, that's what Morgan had said.

Now, there was a feeling of deep foreboding brewing in Reid's stomach; coupled with the broiling storm outside, it was almost unbearable. It didn't fit the profile that the UnSub would make an empty threat, and then allow himself to be arrested... It was like an irritating thorn in Spencer's side that he couldn't identify the missing link. He pored over the maps and notes scattered across his little designated workspace again and again, but there was nothing else to be dredged up from the information that he hadn't already analysed.

"Reid..." The pure trepidation in Garcia's voice caused Reid to turn his head almost at once. On her screen, there was a passport-type picture of the man they were on their way to arrest.

"Yeah?" He peered over her shoulder; it took only a few seconds of frowning at the screen to see what Garcia was seeing: this man had no prison record, no previous involvement with the police, he was well-off— a private physician— and respectable. Everything in his file ran against the grain of the profile Reid had so carefully helped to construct. His gaze flickered to the security footage of the arrest, and suddenly his mind was set alight like a rocket flare had just exploded out of his sub-consciousness. Every warning bell and nerve was set alight, and he shakily keyed in Hotch's number. He was met at the other end by nothing but voicemail, but as he turned around to inform Garcia the words stuck in his throat. The mobile fell lose between his slender fingers, and both his eyes and mouth widened in horror. A tremendous rush of blood to his ears drowned out Garcia's horrified gasp, and his stomach rose up and then plummeted all within the space of a millisecond- although to Spencer time dragged its laboured footsteps along until his limbs felt like lead.

Garcia's little TV screen was showing media footage of a massive explosion at a bank... a Washington bank... and parked outside, sitting there in the shadow of the great smoke plumes billowing up from the carnage...

Three black SUVs, and not a team member in sight.


	2. One: Stormclouds

_**A/N: Does Spencer actually drive? It's never really crossed my mind... He probably does and the chances are that I'm being stupid but erhm... *awkward cough* anyway. Le chapter you came here for:**_

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The storm's back broke, and its ferocious contents were dispelled across the coast as the daylight bled from the sky. Along the horizon line, all of the sunset's beauty had been tainted by brooding thunderheads cloaked in blue-black cloud, rain and howling winds pounding into the land without a shred of mercy. A bruised sky was torn open with a terrific rumble and a blinding flash of lightning, and beneath this maelstrom one black SUV raced towards Washington.

Spencer's knuckles were white against the black of the wheel, and Penelope didn't think she had ever seen her boy genius look so grim and yet so determined as he did in that moment: his slight frame was hunched forward, eyes blazing out into the darkening, storm-struck night. Amidst the darkness, the pale yellow of the headlights was nothing, but the two of them needn't have worried. Barely a soul dared to drive the road under these conditions, although it was hardly as if Spencer and Penelope had any choice. In the back seat, Penelope's face was pale from the shock that continued to freeze her system, and she appeared more like a phantom as the rain-on-glass patterns swirled across her skin.

"How long is the drive?" She asked, shivering.

"It's been measured at 47 minutes but in these conditions..." his throat felt thick. "An hour... hour and a half, at the least," a shaky sigh left his lips, crystallising instantly in the frigid air- (they had been in such a rush that Reid hadn't stopped to turn on the heating)- and he glanced back at Garcia. He seemed to suddenly notice the chill, because a faint quiver racked in body and he switched on the heating. They drove on in silence, Spencer clenching his teeth in an attempt to fight back the rising nausea in his throat. His head was getting bad again, and if this little headache turned into a full-blown migraine they would truly be stuck; all the time he was waiting for the tell-tale flashes in the corners of his eyes, while his heart beat out a frantic taboo in his throat. Still, not a single team member was answering their mobiles- and the radio was bringing in absolutely nothing apart from depressing thoughts.

_-"...It is believed several police officers and federal..." _Garcia's head jerked up, and Spencer swiftly adjusted the volume and fixed the station. In the driver's mirror, Garcia's frightened eyes met his. _"agents are inside the building, along with twenty civilians. The security guard present at the arrest has been taken to safety, but there are no further reports on the people still inside the building. It is believed to be a bomb..." _

"Reid, she said Federal Agents..." Garcia's voice was cracked, and her lightly curled fist pressed up against her mouth.

"I heard her," Spencer replied, with a little more harshness in his response than he intended. Noting this at once, and the way that Garcia recoiled, he took a deep breath to try and steady the nerves jittering around his body. "It's exactly another 37 minutes until we reach the explosion sight, and then we can try to- to assess the situation," He finished, unable to keep the shake and quiet fear from seeping into his tone. This didn't feel right to him; this position of issuing orders under stress and trying to keep order was Hotch's job. Heck, JJ could take this position with more authority than he ever could! Spencer was a loss, like a fisherman drowning but having to keep his head above the water for the sake of his crew. Just then, he was the only agent qualified to keep up this case- unless, of course, Strauss could magically produce a team of co-operative, fresh agents that could learn two weeks' worth of profile in one night. Now what were the chances of that?

* * *

Arriving at the explosion scene, it was as if the warm interior of the SUV had gorged Spencer and Penelope out into hell. Reporters and policemen were everywhere, yelling orders and instructing rescue teams through megaphones, shielding themselves from the freezing rain with cheap umbrellas and emergency poncho's. Spencer pulled up the collar of his overcoat, splashing through ankle-deep puddles towards the officer who had been in charge of the investigation.

"Detective Inspector Smith!" Reid held up his FBI badge, automatically pulling his hands back from the proffered handshake. Again, he was in an unusual position: introducing himself without a comment from another team member. Garcia was walking close behind him, a black umbrella screening her from the worst of the rain. She introduced herself, glancing around.

"Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid, I assume?" Smith said, merely as a way of introduction. His niceties were met by an abrupt nod from Reid, and a distracted air resonated off the young doctor.

"What's the situation?"

"We have firemen inside what little remains of the building as we speak, but... I don't want to lie to you; the situation is looking pretty grim. Your fellow agents haven't been seen at all- I, I guess you could get suited up and go in with them...?" The DI suggested. He was fresh on the post, a mild-mannered character with a stern hand when it came to justice; and just then he looked to be their only friend in this hard time.

"Yes, that would be good," Spencer was secretly relieved that Smith had suggested before he had had to ask.

"What about me?" Garcia piped up, and Reid whirled around. He bit his lip briefly.

"Go to the hotel, get set up as best you can,"

"You'll call?"

"yes, Garcia, I'll call," he tried for a reassuring tone, and wished that he could use it with the same command that JJ or Hotch did. Garcia nodded, as an officer led her back towards his own car. Reid watched her go, and that same foreboding from earlier raised its unwelcome head once again. He swallowed, and followed Smith to where the paramedics and firemen were working side by side to duck beneath the rubble and search through the inner wreckage.

* * *

_**A/N: That's it for chapter one! Hopefully a better chapter this weekend... Again, the ending was a little too rushed but what can I say? I was really excited to get another chapter up tonight. **_


	3. Two: Rubble

_**TITLE CHANGE: "The Invisible King" okay sorry go on I just needed to let you guys know.**_

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Standing in the heart of the bank's corpse, Spencer had thought the situation would be granted with a certain amount of clarity. Instead, reality had dealt him a harsh blow that left him reeling; ever since seeing the blast on live TV he had been wading through the hours in a dreamlike trance. Now his brain had kick-started up to full throttle, and his eyes were smarting with the threat of tears.

How could anyone survive this?

The roof had been blown apart, and then the remains had collapsed inwards so that everyone was having to move hunched over beneath wide slabs of plaster and concrete- not including the rubble and imploded walls. Then, in the middle of the room that had been the main chamber, the floor had fallen in. The raw basement foundations were strewn through with the collapsed debris. In order to get down that hole, they would have had to crawl on their bellies beneath a downwards-angled section of roof and poorly built original beam work. A huge steel bar was blocking easy access. With a sigh, Spencer crouched beside the fireman who seemed to be in charge and signalled to get his attention. The much older man looked at him with lined, squinting eyes, and his cheeks were a ruddy red beneath his mask. He lifted the said mask, a questioning frown settling over his features.

"I'm not trying to impose on your work," Spencer began, showing his badge. "I just need to be down there: my team were in this building at the time of the explosion,"

"Sorry, Agent—"

"It's- uh, actually it's doctor," He corrected out of habit. A wry smile curled the fireman's mouth.

"Okay. Look, Doc, the bomb disposal squad are down below as we speak, and as soon as they give the all-clear we can go down there," He replied, and Spencer tried to bite back his irritation at being called _Doc._

"How long would that be?"

"It might be hours. They have to locate the bugger first, and it's a nasty wreck down there," He shook his head.

"Hey Boss!" A short, round-faced woman approached them. She ducked down under the steel beam, before crouching beside the two of them. She didn't take any note of Spencer, although he was certain he stuck out like a saw thumb in his over-sized borrowed orange safety jacket. "Reports've come back. We can screw all thoughts of a rescue mission, because we're just helping the paramedics dig out the bodies. Anyone down there would have been crushed, burned or choked. Even if they're trapped beneath the rubble..." She trailed off with a great huff, running a hand through her hair until it stuck up, "It's sweltering hot," Despite the offhand way in which she made her report; there was real sadness in her eyes. "They'll be suffocating,"

The blood was back in Spencer's ears.

"I'm really sorry Doc. You're team could be anywhere else, don't lose hope just yet,"

"Don't lose- don't—" For once, Spencer Reid had nothing to say. All the statistics and numbers he had ever read on the weight and pressure of buildings like these, on how long a person could survive in certain conditions and the calculations on the foundation's ability to support the rubble all seemed to launch an attack on his brain. Pain became the prominent part of his mind as his headache from earlier exploded into a migraine.

"I know it's not easy- I lost half my team myself twenty years back to an explosion... Hey, look, get yourself a hotel room; my name is Robert Farr and I'll call you if anything gets found. Anything at all, and that's a promise," Farr's tone was sincere, but as Spencer squinted at him, his face didn't seem to be able to stay still. It was grainy, like a television screen showing a cheap film. "Doc, are you alright? Come on, it'll be the heat in here, come on," Robert took Spencer's elbow, and despite the fact that Spencer shook him off, he stayed close by the agent until they were back out in the driving rain. The chill washed over Spencer, and he looked back at Robert with a look the fireman had seen all too often: hopeless eyes rimmed white with shock.

"Thank you," A stiff nod. "I need to walk from here,"

"I'll see your car is driven to the hotel,"

Robert watched Spencer go, and shook his head sadly. The agent was just a lonely, tall, slender figure dressed in a black coat and scarf walking with his head down into the pitch-black streets. Rain battered his lightly quaking frame, until the night opened its jaws just wide enough and swallowed him whole.

* * *

Garcia glanced up from the book she had been restlessly reading for the past two hours. Her expression morphed into one of sorrow and worry as she took in the sight of Spencer, framed in the neon lights of the cheap hotel, his clothes clinging to him and his hair plastered flat. He looked at her with a dreadful loss tainting his soft brown eyes, and Penelope was up on her feet and pulling him into a hug before either party could think anything of it. Spencer neither pulled away nor relaxed, but merely bowed his head briefly against her shoulder and his body was wracked by tremors. Garcia could feel the increase of tension in his shoulders, and she knew instinctively that Spencer was doing his upmost not to burst into tears.

"They could be dead," the simple phrase fell from his mouth; Garcia found she was more terrified by the dullness in his tone, than the words themselves. There was a chilling finality in the way he was speaking. It was something almost completely alien to Reid's temperament, and Garcia took an instant disliking to it.

"Don't say that," she replied firmly, pulling back from him. "Don't, just- don't. You always act as if the victims are still alive, and until... until their bodies are found we have to... t-to..." Garcia drew a deep breath. "_Unless_ their bodies are found, we keep going because we have to, so," with the best forced smile she could manage, Garcia reached up and took Reid's dripping scarf. "Come on baby boy, you need to get out of these clothes, take a shower, and it will seem much clearer,"

"No," he ground the heel of his palm into his temple. "It will not seem any clearer, Garcia,"

"You're our boy genius, and you'll figure this out with your awesome techie in her den of infinite knowledge," She lightly pushed him in the direction of their rooms, fighting down the serious terror that was chewing her insides. Reid complied to her gentle prods.

Once inside the hotel room, he sneezed violently and threw his coat down in a corner. Shivers took a hold of him, and he dug through the emergency holdhall he had bought until he came up with some aspirin. For about ten minutes, Spencer found himself locked in an odd staring contest with the little yellow bottle, before he slammed it down and headed for the shower. Half way there, he turned and paced back to the window, sticking his head out and drawing in the cool air. Each time he closed his eyes, the memories of the rubble blossomed in the velvet blackness, swiftly replaced with images of various team members mutilated... crushed... burned... _slowly suffocating. _

His eyes snapped open.

Spencer glanced down at his grip on the window-sill, and he battled the after-shock of almost falling asleep and then waking so suddenly. His rational mind told him that it was only his subconscious brain, panicking at the sudden slowing of his heart rate and then kick-starting, but he knew that he was sick. How on earth could he handle all this? No painkillers, no outside help- not counting Garcia- and no real idea of what the hell was happening. He wished that his brain would stop racing, that his head would stop hurting and that his hotel room would stop pitching about. Of course, he needed sleep; he needed to get out of his soaked clothes, he needed a lot of things that, just then, he didn't feel he could face.

_Panic attack._

He was on the periphery of losing everything he had worked for.

_Deep breaths._

If the team weren't found, then he would end up dangling off a cliff edge by his finger-nails. No job, and... No family.

_Just get in the shower, rest, there's nothing else to be done._

Spencer didn't remember how, but somehow he got into the shower and out of his clothes. By that time, his whole body was racked with feverish hot-cold shivers, and the warm water was like fire against his icy skin. Staring at the tiles, with all noise drowned out by the rushing blood, water and the drums in his skull, Spencer made a silent resolution: he would pull himself together, and do everything he could. Already, he knew what had to be done. He had a profile to re-build, and a team to save. It was another case, another UnSub; a simple mathematical equation, that he would solve easily as long as he didn't let anything else get in his way. Simple.

At least, that was how the table was spread at that moment in time. But as they say, the tables can turn and the times can change.

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**_So, this isn't doing as well as In Blood did. I'm sorry this has gotten off to a slow start, but I'm wayyy too impatient when it comes to loading up chapters and so not much is happening *sigh* Hopefully I'll get more stuff happening once the weekend comes and I have more time. _**

**_Also, who do you want to see more of- Robert Farr or DI Smith? _**


	4. Authors Note- Important Notice

So um... sorry this isn't a chapter, but I just needed to come back in order to tell you guys something. I feel really really guilty about not updating without any notice, but I'm going through some pretty intense stuff mentally, and it's really putting a strain on me until I don't enjoy doing stuff like writing and reading anymore. I've been fighting writers block for months, without any inspiration of any sort. I have a half written chapter, and maybe it will find its way here at some point in the next month.

If I don't update without any notice or apology within the next six months it will be safe to say that I'm no longer coming back. Sorry guys, and I swear I'll do my best. m'kay?

There is a slim chance that will start writing Coffe Shop Kids in order to get my ideas flowing again within the next couple of months, so fingers crossed!


	5. Ending note: leaving Fanfic

Good evening all of you still here! I'm kind of sorry to say that this is my last time writing on this website. If you still want to find me, come over to Ao3 (Archive of Our Own) where I write under Caerulium and will be moving Coffee Shop Kids there too. Honestly, most of what I have written here now just makes me cringe, and while I eagerly await the next CM season I am not so much in the fandom any more. Even so, I feel like I should keep writing CM fics but not here because the formatting does my head in. If you want to talk to me, I'm available on instagram as Caerulium again.

For those wondering at my sudden absense and now this dissapearance, I was struggling from some serious mental issues such as delusions and hallucinations, consequently bringing about depression. Since then I have had therapy, started my ftm transition and basically things are more manageable. I can write again, and my writing is more sustainable, which is the absolute best part :D Massive thanks to my most loyal readers, most noteably the talented dianakotori who gave me huge encouragement on first In Blood and now this. Hugs to everyone!

-Alix


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